


New Galaxy, Same Old Thirst

by KestrelShrike



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Awkward, But like bad dirty talk, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff, He's no Garrus, Nexus - Freeform, Turian, fastburn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-10-19 09:06:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10636716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KestrelShrike/pseuds/KestrelShrike
Summary: This started as a joke about how thirsty I was, personally, for Turians, and how Kandros is a fine, fine example of the species. And then I got into it. And now I'm super into it. Please help me. Should I write more about these two?





	1. Chapter 1

There were many words that could be used to describe Pathfinder Ryder, but ‘smooth’ was not one of them. 

Since first coming to the Nexus, Tiran Kandros had caught her eye. She couldn’t say what exactly it was, but some quality kept her coming back, thinking of little excuses and errands to run around the ops center, or trips that would require returning from planetary missions again and again. Enough, however, was enough. Today she was going to stop just looking and actually going to do something. 

“SAM, how’s my hair?” Tugging on a purple strand, she debated up or down before leaving it as it always was, a customary ponytail. Turians didn’t even have hair; would he notice or care if she did anything differently? 

“It looks acceptable, Pathfinder, though I am no judge of external appearance.” Acceptable had to be good enough. 

“Scarf or no scarf, SAM?” 

“The Nexus is kept at a temperature comfortable for both humans and other Milky Way species. A scarf is not needed.” That wasn’t exactly what she had asked; scarf it was, with the leather jacket that she had brought from another galaxy, the one worn in perfectly, but with colors still dyed bright and bold. This was it. It was time to do this. 

“Kandros.” She kept her tone level and even, trying to sound as normal as possible as she walked up to him. It was tempting to fuss with her hair again, or to try and straighten or jacket, or to wonder if she should have worn different pants. At least she would be thinking about anything other than the faint flutter in her stomach and the sudden pounding her heart seemed to be doing, like she was sixteen and with her first crush again.

“Pathfinder.” His greeting was perfunctory, but his tone was friendly; he was clearly occupied in looking at APEX team reports. Maybe another time? No. If Ryder turned back now, she knew she would never get the courage to do this a second time. 

“Just Ryder, actually, Kandros. Just Ryder is fine.” That was a start, at least. It wasn’t quite her first name, but it wasn’t the title either, that single word that she struggled to fill at the best of times. 

“Ryder,” Kandros acknowledged. Was she imagining it, or was there a slight smile on his face? It was hard to tell, but his mandibles definitely seemed to be curving slightly upward. “Any word on the Turian ark?”  
It was exactly the question she didn’t want asked, mostly because there was no way to spin it into a pick-up line. 

Time to power through this anyway. “There are rumors of debris on Havarl. We’re heading there next, but we had to stop and resupply. And I wanted to talk to you.” It sounded even worse spoken aloud than it had in her had. 

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” At least Kandros had the grace to look amused, rather than fed up with her. 

“I thought maybe we could go to Vortex and talk there. I’d love to know more about you.” And there it was. It was easier to look somewhere over Kandros’ left shoulder than it was to look at his face, even though he had what Ryder considered an exceedingly pleasant face to look at, which was the whole reasons she was acting like an idiot in the first place. 

Kandros looked her up and down, taking her in, and something in his expression seemed to change- maybe his whole posture relaxed, or his mandibles seemed to be smiling, or something. Either way, he shrugged. “Why not? I have some time.” Was it her imagination, or had there been speculation when he looked at her? Either way, they walked side by side to the tram, and then into the chaos and noise of Vortex. 

Apparently, it was poetry night. Bad poetry night, if the human on stage was any indication. People in the audience were actually snapping after each line. “I’m going to need a lot to drink to live through this.” It didn’t exactly fit the mood Ryder wanted. 

“Agreed. Wait until the Turians start. I recognize that one waiting offstage- he likes limericks.” Exasperated, Kandros joined her at the bar, where the pair studiously avoided the curious look of the bartenders, ordering separately and some distance down from each other. 

One cocktail later for Ryder and one dextro-based beer later for Kandros, and conversation was flowing, though not as much as the alcohol, going progressively faster down their throats. It was enough to make the poetry bearable, at least, or quiet enough that they could pretend it wasn’t there. 

“I joined the Andromeda Initiative to be my own person, free of familial expectations. Every turian has them, but not every turian has such a big shadow to fall behind.” Kandros slammed down the remains of his second beer, voice somewhat bitter, making a face at the drink. It wasn’t meant to be quaffed in that way, but the warm buzzing surrounding his body made it all worthwhile. 

“Tell me about it. I didn’t have a choice joining the Initiative, and I didn’t have a choice in taking on dad’s role. Half the shit I do has people telling me what he would have done instead. I’m not him. I thought this would be a fresh start.” Sooner or later, Ryder knew she was going to descend into taking shots, but for now she was happy to take another sip, admiring that the bartenders had managed to already produce something new from limited biological samples taken on foreign planets. Aya in particular was a true treasure-trove of botanical delights, ones that mixed well with vodka and gin to produce something strong and sweet. “So, do you feel like you’re your own man now, Kandros?” At least she wasn’t slurring yet. She just felt… good. Maybe not as worried. 

He pointed at her, a finger jab in her direction. “If you get to be Ryder, I get to be Tiran. Only fair.” When Ryder nodded, trying to mask her half-smile and failing, he continued on. “I’m Head of Security now. People look up to me for being myself. Feels good. Feels right. If I didn’t have to deal with Tann all day, it would feel even better.” 

“I’ll drink to that.” Their cups clinked together as they both took another deep draught, music pulsing over them and a silence descending. It wasn’t awkward, but Ryder had been waiting too damn long to just keep the conversational casual. 

“Kand -Tiran. Always liked a man in uniform.” This was definitely the right thing to say. Definitely. 

“I don’t wear a uniform, Ryder.” He leaned forward, hand on the table, just as she did. Take it? Don’t take it? The dilemma was real and intense. 

“Authority. A man with authority.” And now she sounded like she had daddy issues. At least SAM wasn’t piping in, for once mercifully silent. 

“Ryder, are you flirting with me?” 

“Should I not?” No, no, don’t ask him that Ryder. Now he’s going to say ‘no’ and you’ll have blown it. So smooth. So well done. 

“You’re not bad looking, for a human. You have… uh… very nice hair.” It was the first time Kandros had ever sounded less than confident, stumbling over his words. It also wasn’t an answer to her question. 

Grinning, Ryder grabbed his hand, and he didn’t pull away, looking down at them, and then intertwining his fingers with her own. “So, theoretically, if I did something bad here, would you have to arrest me?” Just prior to disembarking, Ryder and Liam had an old cop-vid movie marathon, followed by even older detective dramas that pre-dated even the discovery of the mass relays. Black and white flicks, cast only human, filled with trenchcoats and femme fatales that she could never see herself as. 

“Theoretically, yes.” Oh, he was definitely smiling now. “I have an apartment near here. We could test my techniques.”

Biting the corner of her lip and then giving up any pretense of looking bashful, Ryder replied with a glint in her eye. “I always did want to learn more about that famous turian reach and flexibility.”


	2. First Dates and Open Comms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Ryder ends up spending a night with Tiran Kandros, she realizes that she wants this to be more than a fling. Humor ensues. It’s recommended you read New Galaxy, Same Old Thirst first, but not required! Special thanks to @stormcallart , whose work provided some of the inspiration for this.
> 
> Please let me know what you guys of this. <3
> 
> How am I doing developing his character?

There are nights you don’t remember, dimmed by a pleasant haze of alcohol, and nights you remember every detail of, despite how much you had to drink. When Wren Ryder awoke in a bed that was distinctly not her own, in a room that was definitely not on the Tempest, it took only a moment for her to remember everything that had happened the previous night. The presence of a distinctly turian arm looped gently around her waist also served to help that purpose, as did the fact she was wearing absolutely nothing at all. 

Shit. 

Tiran Kandros was still blissfully passed out. By the light of simulated day, his quarters were Spartan neat and tidy, except for the pile that was Ryder’s clothes and his own armor. Even his little designated pile was neater than hers, and as she carefully slipped out from beneath his arm, she shook her head. Okay, so… What now? He didn’t seem like the ‘settle down for cuddling and breakfast’ type, but just getting up and leaving also didn’t seem like an option. This wasn’t exactly what she had wanted and planned; what she had thought of as a fun first date had turned into a fling, and now there were too many awkward questions hammering their way through her brain, hitting harder than any hangover ever could. 

Step one- at least slip on her bra and underwear. Step two, find herself in Kandros’ bathroom, lined with mysterious turian dextro products and attempt not to panic. Step three, call a friend using her communicator. In this case, the unlucky victim was Vetra. 

“Ryder, where the hell have you been? You didn’t come back to the Tempest last night, and SAM refused to tell us where you were. Lexi was about to send out a search party.” Step four: placate your friends, and in doing so, try and placate yourself. 

“I… may have done something last night. Something potentially bad.” Honesty was the best policy. “Vetra, I slept with Kandros. Help.” 

“Tiran Kandros? Head of Nexus Security Kandros? Blowhard Kandros?” Every sentence was increasingly incredulous, Vetra’s tone rising an octave. 

“I’m getting your point. Vetra, what do I do?” Running a hand through her hair, she looked at her reflection in his mirror, noting that he didn’t even have fingerprints on it. Her hair was messy and her make-up had that caked on look that came from sleeping in it, but she had looked worse. 

On the other end, Vetra sighed. “Ryder, I don’t even talk with Sid about boys, and I’m not going to talk to you about it.” 

“Vetra, please. I really like him. How do I impress a turian?”

“Wasn’t raised by turians. Hold on, Ryder. Someone else wants to give advice.” There was a moment of silence, which Ryder protested with a loud hiss. 

“Vetra, don’t you dare tell anyone else what I did and-”

“Ryder.” Drack’s voice was too loud for being so early, and far too happy. 

Slapping water on her face, Ryder contemplated the ways this could be worse, finding herself coming up short. 

“Vetra tells me you’re having romantic problems. Just tell him how you feel. None of this evasive bullshit you humans love. Peebee and Jaal say they agree.” Ah. That’s how it could get worse. 

“Hanging up now guys, bye.” Now that at least four of her crewmates knew what had happened in the past twenty-four hours, there was no way Ryder could live this down. Maybe she could still sneak out of Kandros’ apartment and walk away with some of her dignity intact. Maybe they would never mention it again, and she could go back to pining from afar. It suddenly seemed like a better situation than just standing there and actually telling him she was interested in more than sex. Another splash of water, and she was ready to leave the bathroom, slip into her clothes, and leave as quietly as possible. 

No such luck. As Ryder left the bathroom, Kandros was already stirring, sitting up in bed and watching her with what she imagined might be a raised eyebrow on a species that had them. “Removing your clothing was enjoyable, Ryder, but I didn’t think I’d have to do it again this morning.” The shade of pink Ryder turned was not at all attractive, but the response made Kandros laugh, the sound almost strange coming from him. 

No time like the present, she reminded herself. “Can I ask you something Kandros? Not that round two wouldn’t be great, but before.” May as well implode the whole thing now, if that was going to be the way things went, instead of waiting until after they’d enjoyed another round in bed together. 

Lying back slightly, Kandros nodded his ascent. “Go ahead, Pathfinder.” He drawled over the last word lazily, making her blush again, though she pressed forward. 

“Do you want to go to Havarl with us? With me, I mean. To look for the turian ark. It’s really gorgeous there, and if anyone deserves a break from the Nexus it’s you…” 

“Ryder, are you asking me on a date?” At least he was amused, mandibles curved slightly upward and fingers slightly open, palms upward. 

“Uh. Yes. Yes I am.” It would have been easier to backtrack and insist he was misinterpreting her actions, but there was no use in going back now. 

Kandros was shaking his head at her, sitting back up and then sliding halfway out of bed, feet on the floor. “Ryder, I’m not exactly boyfriend material. Are you sure we would even get along?” It was a valid point; they had disagreed on things in the past, arguments that they both knew would resurface eventually. 

“Yes. Please, Kandros?” The Pathfinder shouldn’t have to beg, and it was hard to keep her tone from wheedling. But damn, he looked good even half-awake, and last night had been fun. It would be hard to walk around Ops in the Nexus and know he was there, know that she could look but not touch. Besides, they had so many more shared daddy issues to discuss. 

He looked her up and down, not as hungry as he had been last night, and then shrugged, apparently having made some quick mental calculation, the same that made him run APEX so well. “Sure, why not. I can be ready at fourteen hundred hours. Give me time to clear up a few things, put some subordinates in charge. I’m owed time off anyway, and we both know you humans can’t handle turian politics.” 

Resisting the urge to whoop, Ryder settled for enthusiastically nodding, scuttling forward to snatch up her clothes and pull them on eagerly. She needed a long, hot shower, and maybe some lotion if she could get it from Lexi without too many questions. Chafing might become a real issue if this thing, whatever it was, was going to continue. Wait, should she kiss him goodbye? This was going to be a first date, really- last night didn’t feel like it counted, exactly, and turians didn’t have lips and… She was just going to show herself out, though she couldn’t resist walking forward and kissing his forehead, the armor cool beneath her lips. Ryder could have sworn he smiled, though she turned away just as quickly, not wanting to be tempted back into bed. He really did look good even now. “I’ll see you on the Tempest at fourteen hundred hours.” That was 2PM, right? Right. 

Outside his apartment, Ryder leaned against the wall and finally let out a small noise of victory, pumping her fist in the air. 

“You asked him to Havarl, Ryder?” Her comms crackled to life, Vetra’s voice flooding back. 

“Shit. How much did you hear of that?” If it was possible for a person to turn purple from embarrassment and die a little bit on the inside, that was what Ryder was doing. 

“All of it. You forgot to hang up. Good luck, Ryder. You’ll need it.” 

To first dates. To returning to the Tempest and knowing everyone had heard everything. Despite that, she smiled.


	3. First Date Disasters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Wren Ryder learns that perhaps taking Tiran Kandros to Havarl to search for the missing turian Ark is not the ideal first date, and I get to play with angst. I've been reading Andromeda:Uprising (the novelization) and there's some interesting tidbits about our new favorite turian in there.
> 
> Comments always super appreciated. <3

It was a relief to be off the confines of the Tempest and beneath an actual atmosphere again, Havarl’s softly tinted sky stretched over Wren Ryder’s head in an endless, gentle arc. The air smelt fresh and organic, rather than the ship’s own recycled quality. Stretching her arms overhead, Ryder turned to look at her companions. “When was the last time you were off the Nexus, Kandros?” 

“You forget what it’s like to have dirt beneath your feet and all the air you can breathe without feeling guilty.” There was a moment of comfortable silence where Tiran Kandros simply stood there and breathed, chest rising and falling, and Ryder found herself breathing in time with him, thinking that maybe this whole crazy idea was okay. Ask the head of Nexus security on a date to Havarl to look for the turian ark. Maybe it really would all be okay.

For now, it was time to keep going. “I’ll take point. Vetra, you’re left flank. Kandros, you’re on the right. Keep your eyes open.” The trio started to move, the scent of crushed greenery beneath them heavy. “When I first landed here,” Ryder continued, tone conversational, “I wondered if we could ever settle here, provided the angara agreed. Seemed like a nice enough place. A real golden world. Exactly what we’re looking for. Then I met the Roekaar. If we’re lucky, we can trace this signal and won’t find any, but if we do… They hate aliens. That means us.” And yet shooting them never got any easier. They were sentient but not wholly malevolent; if Ryder closed her eyes, she could see Jaal as one, or one as Jaal. It was too easy to see how one could become the other. 

Guns out, they walked through the permanent twilight, passing the small angaran base and entering the realm of true wilderness. Ryder held her fist up for a moment, signalling silence and a pause in movement, before they pressed on. As far as first dates went, it wasn’t the most romantic setting, but it was beautiful enough to make up for it. When she looked at Kandros from the corner of his eye, she could see him smile every now and then, pause to stop and marvel at a plant she just walked by, having seen it so many times before. So much taken for granted; she got to stretch her legs, certain that for every tiresome day engaged in Nexus politics she would have three more on a new world in a new galaxy. Kandros had no such relief. “You like it?” she finally asked, disturbing the silence. 

“This is what the turian golden world could have been. Should have been, if we had been able to see better.” He shook his head, bending down to pick up a small flower and hold it between two fingers before letting a gentle breeze blow it away. “Maybe there’s something out here after all. Thanks, Pathfinder.” They were back to her title again, but Ryder found she didn’t mind. This was her job. If she could forge a trail through the Scourge and give everyone just a bit more hope… It had to be enough. Maybe this is what Alec had lived for. 

Another few minutes of silence, punctuated only by animal sounds. They were almost like birds, but not quite, foreign enough to not be easily identifiable. If this all died down… When this all died down, Ryder would like to join a proper science expedition just to see what was out there. “We’re reaching the navpoint now. Stay alert.” Her gun raised slightly, anticipation tightening every muscle. “I think I see something ahead.” 

The staccato sound of gunfire ruined the near reverential silence and sent all three into a sprint. “Behind me. Vetra, any signs yet? Kandros, prep your gun.” Though she trusted him to be competent, it had been a while since he’d been in the field, and even longer since he’d had to follow the orders of anyone else. “Try and break through whatever fire we’re facing and get behind cover. Fortify yourself if needed, and watch out for any other turians.” With that, they were off. 

Initially, all that was visible were the Roekaar, at least a dozen of them crowding some point ahead, a clearing backed into a cliff face. They were quick to notice the newcomers, half of them peeling off to take shots at Ryder and her companion, the other half pressing on towards what looked like remains of a ship, scattered crates and pieces of bent metal that must have once been girders and substructure. “Cover, now!” Ducking behind a rock, Ryder let out careful, measured shots, lacking the time to see if Vetra and Kandros were okay. A bullet hit her shields, dissolving in a burst of energy even as she tried to flick her eyes sideways. No time to be distracted. 

When shooting, some part of her simply turned off. The Roekaar were no longer angara; they were simply an obstacle between Ryder and her goal. Their sprays of blue blood could almost be ignored, at least until the field was clean and she could stand up, at least until she stepped in a puddle that slid over her armored feet and seemed to stick there, leaving her feeling sick. The turians- both her own and the ones hanging around the crates- had handled themselves well, though Kandros looked even worse than she felt, kneeling to examine a member of the Roekaar, pushing the body onto its back and then stepping backwards in disgust. “Clear,” Ryder finally said, indicating that they could move forward safely. 

“Appreciate the help back there.” The turian that seemed to be the leader of the group stepped forward, his face cold and set. “Names Avitus Rix. Sorry if my methods seem extreme. Civilian life is… trying.” 

From somewhere behind Ryder’s back, Kandros muttered, “You’re telling me.” 

“Wren Ryder. Human Pathfinder. You former military?” He knew his way around a gun, and knowing the turian lifestyle, it was a safe assumption to make. For a few minutes, introductions continued, but both were eager to get to the heart of the matter. “Then Natanus hit the Scourge and bam! Woke up here,” Avitus concluded. 

“What happened? Where’s the ark?” From what Ryder could see, this was part of the Ark, or at least parts from it, but if the whole thing had gone down surely more would be visible. 

“No idea. Had to break out of my own damn stasis pod.” As Avitus continued, she once again couldn’t resist looking back. Kandros looked troubled, something in him more disturbed than what she had even expected. Vetra was quiet, serious, but not nearly as alarmed as Kandros was. He looked almost afraid, if Ryder had to put a word to it. 

“Most of the turian population is still missing- including Macen, our Pathfinder. SAM hasn’t transferred to me, so he’s alive. Just don’t know where.” It was a slim hope, but it was at least that much. 

“Debris and stasis pods are scattered across the sector. Between the two of us, we should find something.” A plan, even if it was a slim one. 

“You go left, I go right?” The joke was a bad one, but Avitus found something within himself to chuckle, and after they exchanged frequencies, there was another direction to take. He had coordinates marked down, but protecting his people left him vulnerable, unable to follow up. “Kandros, can you help?” 

“There’s an APEX team nearby. I’ll redirect them right way, help you reinforce.” A few flicks of his omni-tool and it was done. The extra safety would take worries off everyone’s shoulders, though they both knew Avitus would stay no matter what. 

“Take a breather. We move back to the Tempest in five.” Her shields needed to recharge, the area where a bullet had impacted her sore. It would be a pretty bruise tomorrow, but Ryder wasn’t overly concerned about herself. Vetra was fine too- they shared a look and Vetra nodded. All good. That only left Kandros, who had moved away to stare at a small crate, finally folding his body downward and simply staring forward, past the bodies of the Roekaar and past his own people, looking at some imagined past that wasn’t accessible to Ryder. 

“Kandros… Tiran. You okay?” She moved close to him, sitting down near him but trying to give him at least a few feet of breathing room. “As first dates go, this is pretty shitty. I’m sorry.” What had she expected they would find? Anything but this. Something more positive, something other than destruction and death at the ends of their own guns. Gently, she rested her hand on his arm. 

He shook her off roughly, shaking his head once. “No. I’m far from okay, Ryder.” Taking a deep breath, he continued on. “Too close to home. When I first woke up on the Nexus, I had no idea what’s going on, just like Avitus. We figured shit out. We thought we lost all the Arks, and then the humans appeared. It was enough to make us hopeful, and that was a stupid mistake.” He seemed to shrink even further inward, though he finally broke away from staring forward to look at her, almost seeming to wince. “Sorry. Not your problem. Mine.” 

Once again, Ryder reached out to touch him gently, resting her hand for a moment. This time he didn’t pull away, scooting an inch closer to her, bringing his hand to her knee. “I want to help. We’re going to find the Ark, Tiran. It looks like there might be something on Elaaden.” Something besides blistering heat. It was the closest thing to hope she could offer. 

“Then I’m going with you. Consider it our second date.” There was something that was almost humor in his voice, and Ryder smiled at him, hesitantly. He couldn’t return the gesture, but for a quiet moment they sat together, her hand on his arm, his hand on her knee, both looking outward and past the death, both seeing some hopeful, bright future where things could be okay. They had to be.


	4. Poker Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A more light-hearted chapter that can be read as a standalone. After the emotional difficulty of discovering the turian ark may be lost, Kandros joins Ryder and the crew in a game of poker, resulting in yet another drunken proposition.
> 
> As always, I love to hear what you think! What's going to happen next for me these two? Will they finally be more than just a hookup?

“And I fold before I owe Gil every credit I own and the Tempest.” Stepping back from the table, Wren Ryder stretched her shoulders and neck, rolling it back and forth to try and work the cricks out of it. If she could escape this game with some of her dignity intact, all the better; she already owed Gil 347 credits, and refused to give him one more. SAM could have helped, but she had no interest in cheating. Well, not today. Next game, though, if no one managed to dethrone their reigning poker king… Things might be different. “Anyone else joining me?” Her head was pleasantly buzzing with the free flowing drinks, and a snack was in order. 

Jaal and Gil didn’t even bother to look up, absorbed in their cards. Liam shook his head, and Cora gave a curt gesture. Kandros, the newcomer to their ship, also shook his head, but Vetra stood up as well, echoing Ryder’s stretch. “I’m also out. Let’s go, Ryder.” 

She didn’t follow Vetra right away, just needing a moment longer. “You good, Kandros? I can’t send the head of Nexus Security back completely broke.” The past few days had been difficult on everyone, from learning that the turian ark was possibly lost to pressing forward to Elaaden, knowing that nothing good could await them. Everyone sorely needed this game. 

“If I can win a game against Sloane Kelly, I can beat anyone. Don’t worry, Ryder.” At least he was relaxed now, not exactly happy but filled with enough of the turian liquor Tupari to approximate it. 

“You’re the boss. Well, I’m the boss, but you know what I mean.” Before heading down the stairs, Ryder clapped a hand to Kandros’ shoulder, resting it there a moment longer than friendship would dictate. He was a grown turian and he could handle himself. If he couldn’t, well… That was on him, and on Gil. She had to trust that not bankrupting everyone in the Andromeda galaxy wasn’t in her engineer’s best interests. Right now, if the cotton feeling of her mouth was any indication, she also needed to drink something that wasn’t beer. Time to swing by the galley as promised, see if she couldn’t find something to at least prevent tomorrow’s hangover from being too brutal.

In the Tempest’s galley, Vetra nibbled on a piece of some kind of dextro-based cracker, shooting Ryder a look laden with questions as she walked in. 

“So… This is going well,” Ryder finally ventured, trying to down a large glass of water and look as guilt-free as possible. 

“What part of ‘not discussing boys’ do you not understand, Ryder? Or ‘smuggler and security officer don’t mix.’” Taking another bite, Vetra clacked her mandibles in irritation, in as much as Ryder could judge turian facial expressions. “Don’t give me that look. Fine, it’s going great. I’m sure you’ll have lots of awful hybrid children together.” 

Rolling her eyes so hard that she thought she could see through the ceiling of the Tempest, Ryder took another drink, silence pointed. After a tense few seconds, Ryder gave in and shrugged. “I’m going to go to bed.” 

“With Kandros?” 

“Vetra, I will airlock you.” Vetra’s laughter broke the tension between them, following Ryder back to her quarters, where she was more than happy to sit back on her couch and simply unwind with an actual, honest-to-god paper book in hand. The jacket said it was a weighty history tome, but truth be told, it was a direct from the vid adaptation of Fleet and Flotilla. A girl had to have some guilty pleasures. 

Just as the titular fleet (turian) and flotilla (quarian) were about to consummate their relationship in a flood of dextro-based fluids, there was a knock on Ryder’s door. Damn it. Always when she was getting to the good part, cheeks slightly flushed. 

Dropping the book down on the couch, she stood and yelled out, “Pathfinder Ryder is a very busy woman, so this better be important.” If only she could get a sign on the door that told people to go away; if only she could get a moment of peace and quiet. 

“Ryder.” Kandros stood on the other side of the door, swaying slightly. “Your skin looks great tonight.” An empty bottle of Tupari dangled between two claws, and he suddenly leaned against the doorframe, trying to look suave but only accomplishing looking like he couldn’t stand. “You wanna?” He made a gesture with his free hand, a twirl of the fingers that was somehow universal. 

Sighing inwardly, Ryder plucked the bottle from Kandros’ fingers, putting it down on her small table. He reeked of the strange combination of what was definitely alcohol and whatever it was they put in the drink to make it appropriate for the turian GI system- something that smelled slightly chemical and astringent to her, though Vetra had said time and time again that it ‘smelled like heaven.’ 

“Kandros. I do. It’s not that I don’t.” She ran her hand through her hair nervously, trying to formulate a sentence when it seemed like words had left her. “But I also want to be more than that. That was the whole point of this mission. I don’t just want to be your booty call.” 

“My… what?” 

“Sorry, human phrase. But I like you a lot, Kandros. Even when you’re like this. It’s still kind of cute.” Cute was not a word normally associated with a turian nearly seven feet tall with a penchant for power armor, and yet. 

Silence greeted Ryder’s proclamation; it looked like Kandros was having trouble focusing on her, though he finally managed to get both eyes facing forward. His pupils, some part of her noticed, were slightly larger than normal. “Ryder, you’re good, for a human. A good person. I’m going to go to bed.” It wasn’t exactly a stirring declaration of feelings, but at least he hadn’t totally rebuffed her. He started to walk away, managing to trip over his own two feet and going sprawling across the floor, lying there and accepting his fate. His temporary quarters were on the upper deck, and there was no way Ryder would be able to drag him up the ladder to his own bed. 

“Kandros, you better come in.” Helping him up (and nearly falling over in the process), Ryder led Kandros to her own bed, one side of it undisturbed. “You can sleep here tonight.” 

“You change your mind?” He leered, if such a thing could be possible with that face. 

“Not even a bit, buddy,” she answered with a grin. Damn it, but she really did like him. “But there’s no way you’re getting home like this. Just kick back and relax.” He didn’t say anything else, and while Ryder went to go fix herself another drink, he apparently passed out, fast asleep and neatly within his confined half of the bed. She shook her head again. He looked comfortable, at least. 

With a shrug, Ryder called it a night, stripping down to her pajamas, knowing that she was safe from him watching. Crawling into bed, she was prepared to sleep with a carefully maintained set of inches between them, but in his sleep Kandros turned to face her, one arm stretching out and looping around her waist possessively. Okay. Well, this was okay. Tomorrow was a new day, after all.


	5. Desert Winds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was inevitable that Tiran Kandros and Wren Ryder would butt heads. What comes afterwards is equally inevitable.
> 
> As always, thoughts and comments are super, super appreciated. Please and thanks. <3

A small, dry breeze made the dunes shift underfoot, only moving hot air around, rather than providing any relief. Even with Elaaden stabilized, it was hot; not enough to drain life support, but only barely. It was a stark reminder of how much further Wren Ryder still had to go if she wanted to help make the Andromeda galaxy a habitable place. 

Their small team had left the safety of the Nomad to scan the turian stasis pods, stark white and reflecting a glare hot enough to fry ants. Pod after pod came up negative for lifesigns, Wren Ryder’s scans becoming increasingly desperate. 

“Subject is a child.” SAM spoke on the open comms so that everyone could hear- Ryder, Vetra, Peebee, and Tiran Kandros, still their guest on this seemingly endless quest to find the turian ark. All four were silent, the toes of Vetra’s armored feet kicking away the corpse of a raider in disgust. The wind blew a little stronger for a moment, and then died down completely, leaving them nothing but their thoughts. 

Kandros was the first one who spoke, his tone without inflection or emotion. “The krogan?” There were centuries of ancestral hate behind his words, but he was dispassionate. There was no human colony on Elaaden as of yet; the political negotiations were complex and fraught with tension, most of it far beyond Ryder’s pay grade. For now, the planet belonged to isolated groups of raiders and the krogan, New Tuchanka a hazy spire forever on the horizon. 

“Impossible. The pods look like they were jettisoned from the ark.” There was a single pod left to scan, and Ryder’s nerves seemed to fragile to hinge on a single piece of smooth, molded plastic and metal, viewing window fogged. It could hold the Pathfinder, or it could hold nothing at all, and she didn’t need Kandros bringing another galaxy’s worth of turian-krogan conflict bullshit into the mix. She wanted to like him; she did like him, or she wouldn’t have helped him to bed the other night when he was drunk, but he was making that difficult right now. They were all strained. The heat was getting to all of them. 

“Pathfinder, this pod still retains power.” The last stasis pod, and their last hope, had something, even if it was just a thin trickle. Gesturing for everyone to gather round, Ryder knelt by it, fingers digging in for any crevice, any opening that she could find to pry it open.

“Kandros, come here. Help me get this open. There’s still something.” He came to her side right away, the two of them looking for that elusive fail-safe switch that would allow the pod to be opened no matter what, without SAM needing to hack into whatever electronics remained. Both Kandros and Vetra both had come to escape rigid turian hierarchy, yet here they were, forming a loose triangle around the pod. It was so much like a coffin in appearance; Ryder had to avoid thinking like that. Ark Natanus could still be alive. 

“Pathfinder… the body has no vitals.” Her fingers went limp, her posture slumping over, forehead resting against the white surface for a moment. 

“Damn it. I was too late.” If they had arrived a few hours earlier. If Ryder hadn’t stopped to pick up Kandros, stopped to put her own needs and desires ahead of that of thousands of turians. If, if, if. So many things she would go back and change, if she could. What would Alec have done, had he found herself in her situation? It all came back to her dad. He was the real Pathfinder, and if she had to hear one more thing about what Alec would have done, how he would have saved the day or stopped the situation from happening entirely, she was going to scream. It was good Cora wasn’t here. Friend or not, there was salt rubbed in the wound every time that spectre was brought up between them. 

Awareness came back to Ryder in a harsh snap. Kandros was railing now, as frustrated as she was, if not more so, his eyes taking in every pod and counting every body, mental tallies in a black ledger that no one could see but him. “Who else could it be by the krogan, Ryder? They shot the ark down, or injured some part of it, for flying too close to their space. They’ve always had a problem with turians, ever since the genophage.” Once he had started, it was difficult for Kandros to stop, a torrent of vitriol that sent Vetra and Peebee into silence, but spurred Ryder into action. She didn’t need this today. You wake up next to a man and he reveals himself to be a giant asshole about things. Not today. Worse yet, she didn’t think he meant it, not truly. Frustration and heat, coupled with sorrow, had pushed them both to an emotional edge, and if they fell off the precipice, who could blame them? 

“Kandros, stand down!” Her voice came out sharper than intended, but Ryder had enough. “There’s zero evidence and I won’t have you flinging accusations.” 

“Ryder, you can’t seriously believe they had nothing to do with this.” He stood toe to toe with her, but despite their height difference, she didn’t move an inch. He loomed, but she could loom right back, and her assault rifle was just as big as his was. Her expression was set, mouth not moving, and if her eyes could have fired biotic nova charges, they would have. 

“Don’t ‘Ryder’ me, Kandros. While you’re on the Tempest, you’re under my command. If I order you to stand down, you stand down.” She felt ten feet tall in that moment; her crew didn’t often listen to her, but she could see by the set of Kandros’ shoulders that he was already deflating, his anger fading in the face of common sense. Silence from him, and Ryder shook her head. It was over, and she let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. 

Through this back and forth, the yelling and the red faces, Vetra and Peebee just watched. Finally, Peebee opened her mouth, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. “So, is it just me, or is all this tension kind of… you know.” 

“I swear, Peebee, I will push you out the airlock the minute we get back to the ship,” but Ryder was trying not to smile as she spoke. It felt wrong to smile, like it spat in the face of tragedy and her own anger from just a moment before, but it also felt good to feel anything other than frustration and sadness from this whole god damn mission. “SAM says he can pick up coordinates from the pod’s computer system. We can rendezvous with Avitus there. Kandros, meet me at the Nomad. Everyone else, join me in five. We’ll radio for extraction and go from there.” They had a probable place for Ark Natanus now, a lead that felt real where all the rest had just felt fruitless. Somewhere in space, the ark could still float, even if it had jettisoned its own precious contents to continue onward. 

Her back leaned against the Nomad and Ryder wiped sweat from her eyes, not for the first time that day. “We’ll send word to the Nexus so the pods can be picked up, and we’ll try and tell the families what’s happened. I won’t apologize for yelling at you though, Kandros. You were out of line, and I’m not here for your racism. I expect better from you.” From anyone she traveled with. It seemed utterly idiotic to be focused on past squabbles when there were hundreds of kett to contend with, and the Scourge on top of all that. 

Kandros stepped closer, shaking his head. She expected him to argue or at least make one final protest, but instead he pushed her against the Nomad, hands on her shoulder. It wasn’t a hard push, but it was enough to catch Ryder off guard, reflexes not fully prepared. One hand started to reach down for the pistol on her hip, when suddenly his mouth was on hers, desperation and longing in one, body leaning against hers. 

WIthout lips, turians weren’t exactly consummate kissers. It was more action of his tongue on hers, his teeth scraping her lip hard enough that she could taste her own copper-based blood, wondering rather stupidly if it was enough to poison him, and then her mind cleared and she wound her arms around him, an ill-fit between both their bulky armor. Shit, she needed this, and shit, she really did like him, even when he was a complete asshole. Maybe especially when he was a complete asshole, because at least he had listened to her. It was better than half her friends could say, and better than what she received from Tann. 

“Thanks, Ryder.” They broke for air and his breath was ragged- or maybe she just heard her own, a panting not entirely due to the heat. Two words were all he said, but they were meaningful. It wasn’t just a thank you for the kiss, though that was there- there was more. She didn’t have to take him, and she had. 

“I always heard turians had a thing for authority.” Not the wittiest answer, but something that had been much gossiped about with her friends, a lifetime ago. 

“Maybe,” he responded, and then pushed her gently against the Nomad again, this time to no one’s surprise. 

In the distance, Ryder could faintly hear Peebee saying, “I told you.”


	6. Look to Those Who Look to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tiran Kandros and Wren Ryder finally find the turian ark, leading to them questioning their own relationship, and everything that could go wrong. 
> 
> As always, comments are very appreciated and loved. <3

Things they were not discussing: the kiss. Things they needed to discuss: the kiss. 

On getting back to the ship, Wren Ryder slept deeply, a solid eight hours of being passed out on her mattress before SAM woke her up with a gentle alarm, reminding her that they would reach the edge of the system within another hour, and that she should prepare herself for whatever they would face on the turian ark. What went unsaid was that she still had a huge list of things to say to Tiran Kandros, not least of which was ‘what the hell are we?’ It seemed like a stupid question to ask when contextualized in the face of so much loss, but now that it was planted in her mind, it wouldn’t leave. 

Instead of dealing with it like a mature, rational human being, Ryder sought out Vetra, leaning in her doorway and trying to look busy, fiddling with her omni-tool. “I’m taking you out to meet with Avitus,” Ryder finally said. “Keep the mission tight- you, me, Kandros, Avitus. We don’t know what kind of damage we’ll find. Be ready to move in an hour. Until then, rest up and prepare your gear.” Rather than following her own advice, Ryder continued to stand in the doorway, flicking the blade on her omni-tool in and out, in and out, as if watching it were the most interesting thing in the world. 

Vetra stared at Ryder for a moment, long enough to make Ryder uncomfortable. “Okay Ryder. Talk about it.” Vetra spoke with a sigh, collapsing against the edge of a table, sagging on the surface more than sitting, rubbing her face as she spoke. 

Sliding down the wall and folding herself into a sitting position, Ryder flicked the blade in and out one final time before trying to stop herself from playing with it more. “I thought you didn’t discuss boys, Vetra.” Though her tone was light and teasing, there was yearning to spill the beans behind every word. 

“I don’t,” Vetra said curtly. “Ryder, you acted out the scene of every movie starring asari schoolgirls in public. On the side of the Nomad. You don’t even want to know what media suggestions Liam gave today. It would be doing us all a favor if you just talked to him.” She rubbed the edge of her mandibles like a human would run their hand through their hair. 

Face burning, Ryder stood and left; it wasn’t that Vetra was wrong. It was the opposite, in fact. Damn it, Vetra was incredibly right, and it was enough to get her on her feet and through the ship, seeking out Kandros.

Not so much walking through the Tempest as stalking, no one interrupted Ryder, though Liam shot her what he no doubt thought of as an encouraging grin. Not helping, Liam. Not helping at all, though she managed to compose herself enough to look smooth. 

“Pathfinder, Kandros is in the weapons locker.” See? Sam was actually helpful. 

Another deep breath, and Ryder could enter the silent space, walking over to her assault rifle and giving Kandros a nod as if everything was casual, examining the gun as if it would look any different than it had yesterday. Nope, still the same. Still in good shape. Still avoiding her problems, unless she opened her mouth now and actually said something. “Kandros.” Can we talk? No, no. She wasn’t going to ask his permission. “We need to talk.” How much time left until arrival now? 

As if to answer her, Kallo’s voice buzzed through the comms, interrupting Kandros just as he turned and opened his mouth. “Ryder, we have Ark Natanus in view. We’ll be docking soon. Avitus sent us coordinates.” 

“After this. We’re talking,” she shot back to Kandros and he nodded, movement tight. By unspoken agreement, they both went out to look over the husk of the ark floating in the darkness of space, battered. It had seen better days; whether the damage was done by the Scourge or by the kett wasn’t clear. What was clear was the sheer amount of damage, the pieces of the ship that had just fallen off, the open holes that would lead to depressurized compartments and death. 

“Estimated loss of at least 5000 pods, Ryder. We’re docking now.” While Kallo spoke, Ryder and Kandros just watched. What could they say to that? 5000 deaths. The number was enough that she couldn’t even conceptualize it, and not being turian, she didn’t want to try. 

Instead, she turned to him. “You ready?” You okay was what she wanted to say, but the question was hidden, obscured beneath the words actually spoken. 

“No. Let’s go.” He was terse, business-like, returning back to the weapons locker to prepare his final load out, putting on his helm side by side with Ryder, Vetra joining them as a third, silent presence. It was time to board. 

**** 

All they found was death, a pervasive air of mystery that colored every action they took. Every step took away hope; Ryder didn’t say anything to her companions beyond what was necessary, the light on her armor illuminating spots on the ship that spoke of lives ended quickly, violently. Avi. Avi. Avi. As long as she lived, she wouldn’t forget the broken SAM, the way it stumbled over itself, the way that Avitus slumped forward and the way she couldn’t even look at Kandros, couldn’t consider this alternative future that could just as easily be them. 

“The turians need a Pathfinder,” the SAM said. Ryder’s own was quiet, the disconnect between hearing a SAM that wasn’t hers and feeling the presence of the human one in her head powerful. 

Avitus was shaking his head. “I can’t,” he said, every word punctuated by another shake. 

“Avitus, I’ve seen you protect settlers. You found the turian ark.” This was more familiar territory for Ryder. “You’re already playing the role of Pathfinder, just without the title. I didn’t feel ready for any of this shit either, but they needed me. The turians need you.” Conviction, as much strength as she could impart in just a few messages, spoke across a void of airless space into darkness. 

“A title that belongs to Macen,” Avitus shot back, but his tone was weakening. 

“A title Macen wanted you to have,” Kandros said, speaking for the first time. He sounded exhausted, leaning slightly against a wall, staring into the SAM node, past all of them.

Another shake of the head and Avitus spoke again. “What if I let them down? What if I let him down?” 

“You could only do that by walking away,” Ryder said, trying to keep her tone final. Walking away would be so easy, but the easy path wasn’t the right one. Pathfinders didn’t rest on easy. 

“Damn it. You’re right.” Relief flooded through Ryder, and she saw Kandros straighten somewhat in response. 

Leaning over her omni-tool, she swiped a few buttons. “I’ll call a shuttle and inform Tann. We can work on extracting the turian colonists.” It would take time, maybe even weeks, but it would happen. They would land safely, and she would find a place for them, even if it meant fighting millions of kett. There had been enough loss already and she wouldn’t be held responsible for any more. 

“Give me a few minutes to talk to Avitus, Ryder.” Kandros gently pulled the turian Pathfinder by the shoulder, leading him to a private corner, and Vetra and Ryder stepped back, exchanging a glance. What passed between them didn’t reach either of their ears; they prepared for extraction, getting ready to get back to the Tempest and whatever they would face there. A world of politics and headaches, probably, a world that Ryder would have to find space for everyone in. This was her job, and she wasn’t about to throw Avitus onto the fire just yet. 

“I hope Avitus is alright,” Vetra finally said as they walked across the sepulchre darkness, back towards their extraction point. “I hope he- what did my dad used to say?- ‘looks to those who looks to him, and together, be uplifted.’” More silence, a long stretch of it, Vetra’s fingers trailing over burnt surfaces, Ryder stopping to pick up a burnt photo, the figures only vaguely recognizable as turian at all. Tucking it away in a pouch on her armor, she kept walking again, every step banishing intrusive thoughts.

“Me too,” she finally said. That’s all she could say. Words would never be enough. 

**** 

She needed a shower, but she needed to speak to Kandros more. Removing her helm, Ryder shook out her sweaty hair, for once not caring what it looked like. It was enough just to get out of her armor, to stretch out her muscles and take deep breaths that weren’t recycled from the suit itself. Look to those who look to you, and together be uplifted. Vetra’s words were a mantra in her head as she collapsed on her couch for a minute, leaning her head backward to look up at the ceiling, studying an imaginary pattern there. 

“Kandros, can I see you?” Her omni-tool sat on the couch next to her; even wearing that felt like too much. 

“I was already on my way.” When Kandros spoke, his voice came not from the comms, but from her doorway, where he was doing his best to lean casually against it, arms crossed. In one hand, a bouquet of flowers, long since dead (but, Ryder strongly suspected, supposed to be dried) dangled loosely, a petal falling every time Kandros so much as twitched. “I uh… brought you these?” He held it out to her, and quirking a grin, Ryder rose to take the flowers, gesturing at Kandros to take a seat. 

“They’re dead, Kandros,” she pointed out entirely helpfully. 

“They were alive on Havarl, when I got them,” Kandros shot back, sitting on her couch and perching awkwardly on the edge of a cushion, prepared to spring back up. 

Dumping the flowers on the coffee table, Ryder put her hands on her hips and responded, still with a grin, “You’re supposed to put them in water. You’re not good at this.” 

Rising to the challenge, Kandros smiled a turian smirk. “You’re not either. And you make questionable decisions as Pathfinder.” 

Was she just going to let that challenge lie? Not at all. Everything about her ached for Avitus, but the levity was needed, refreshing and she stepped forward, one leg on either side of Kandros’ and leaning forward. “And you’re very possibly racist against krogans.” 

“You have daddy issues, Ryder.” Kandros pulled her into a sitting position astride his knee until they were just centimeters apart. 

“So do you.” Ryder stopped talking for a single moment, long enough to brush her lips against the blue paint that very helpfully marked Kandros’ mouth. “This whole thing is a shitty idea. Tann wouldn’t approve.” 

Kandros returned the kiss in kind, not afraid to use his teeth to gently nibble her bottom lip, not hard enough to draw blood, but sharp enough to bring a clarifying, pleasurable pain. “Fuck Tann.” 

“You’ve never said anything better to me.” Before Ryder could add anything else to her statement, Kandros’ hands crept up her shirt, lifting it gently off her body, and she was only too happy to help him out, her own hands struggling to find the areas on his armor that would release him. “I want you to stay here, Kandros. I have to get to Kadara next. Sloane is having some issues with the Charlatan. I can arrange a little reunion.” 

“I would rather be shot in the face.” His hands were struggling with her bra; again, Ryder was only too happy to assist, letting him handle his own armor. 

“I think I want to be with you. Even if you have to be on the Nexus. Even if you’re kind of an asshole.” So was she, come to think of it. “But should we do this?” Doubt crept into her voice for the first time. After seeing everything lost on the turian ark, the death and the destruction and the relationships destroyed… 

“Ryder, shut up.” He picked her up gently, hands under her legs, carrying her to bed. For the third time, she was happy to go along with his plans. 

“That’s a yes?” He silenced her with another kiss, but she noticed his head nod slightly. She would take a yes where she could get it.


	7. Keep on Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After dying for the second time on the Archon's flagship, Wren Ryder reunites with Kandros. Predictably, he's not very pleased. 
> 
> Comments very, very appreciated. Are you as trash for these two as I am?

As Wren Ryder exited the Tempest for rest and relaxation at the Nexus, Kandros was waiting for her. “I’m guessing I’m under arrest?” She kept her tone sardonic and light, but Ryder’s whole body ached; her activities on the Archon’s flagship had pushed her whole being to the absolute limit and then some. 

Kandros shook his head, and there was no sign of amusement in any part of his movements. “Don’t tempt me, Ryder. Tann already wants your head for this.” This wasn’t the homecoming she had anticipated- not by any stretch of the imagination, and some of that hurt must have shown on her face. Kandros softened, held himself less stiff; she hadn’t anticipated PDA. He wasn’t the type, and to be honest, neither was she, but she hadn’t exactly foreseen this either. “My apartment. Let’s go,” he continued, turning abruptly and leading the way without once looking over his shoulder to see if she followed. 

He wasn’t wrong in not waiting. Curiosity got the best of Ryder, as it did every time, and she followed with a sigh, rubbing the back of her neck. Somehow, she didn’t think they were in danger of falling in bed with each other, though it hadn’t stopped Lexi from warning her before she disembarked. “Nothing strenuous, Ryder. Nothing. Even if it’s fun.” It was almost like having Ellen back, if Ellen had been a medical doctor rather than a biochemist. 

Though it wasn’t fair to Kandros’ little suite of rooms, people stopped Ryder every few feet to talk with and congratulate her. Word of the Archon’s flagship wasn’t common knowledge just yet. If it had been, she had little doubt that not everyone would be so happy to see her. Instead, she was offered drinks by most everyone, people excited just to speak with her. It was surreal, but she had no time to chat. Kandros wasn’t waiting for her. 

Finally Ryder could find some safety behind closed doors, leaning against it for a moment. How was it possible to be this tired? But there wasn’t time to rest now- Kandros had turned around abruptly, rounding on her. 

“What were you thinking?” He wasn’t yelling, but this wasn’t an improvement; his tone was cool, clipped, and utterly controlled, and somehow this was far worse. 

“Kandros, I did what I had to.” She hated her words even as she said them. It sounded like something Alec would say, making any justification he could for his most drastic actions. 

Pacing now, Kandros shook his head. “You endangered the whole of the Nexus. You royally pissed off the Archon- intelligence says that even now, the kett are planning retaliation. They could hit the colonies. They could hit here.” But even this wasn’t getting to the heart of Kandros’ issues. He left something hanging in the air still, bait for her to grab and pull out, trying to puzzle him out. 

“That’s not what I meant to do, but if we don’t act now, the kett will do something worse.” Up until now, the kett had been one step ahead, but hopefully, with the information they had taken from the ship, the Initiative would finally have the upper hand. It all lay at Gil’s feet now. No pressure. 

If Kandros had hair, he no doubt would have run his hand through it again and again until it frazzled. Instead, he tugged on his own fringe in an unconscious gesture, then pulling his crest. “You died,” he finally said, tone flat. 

“I got better.” Humor was easier than admitting that dying for the second time had been even more terrifying. Easier than admitting that she didn’t necessarily like the control SAM had over her own body, and much easier than admitting that she needed time to recover. 

“You could have stayed dead.” Finally Kandros collapsed onto his couch, the surface hard and unyielding. He folded his head into his hands, peering out through his fingers to look at her. “All I heard was that you died, Ryder, and then you came back to life. How do you think I felt? The minute I leave the Tempest, you pull this shit.” 

She sat down next to him, space between their bodies. They weren’t touching just yet, but she wanted to. “I didn’t have a choice. If I didn’t die, I couldn’t have saved Drack and Cora. The Archon was trying to… take something from me. From SAM. Believe me, Kandros. I didn’t want to die, but there were no other options.” Her last thoughts had been about him, as stupid as it sounded. If there had been a way to warn him, she would have taken it, but even thinking about saying it out loud felt stupid. Their relationship was too fresh and too new. 

He groaned. “You’re impossible. I have a duty to all the people here to protect them.” He sounded wearier than he ever had. “I send my STRIKE teams out and I know they’re risking their lives. I’ve heard them die over comms. I shouldn’t have to worry that you’re going to kill yourself for something we don’t even understand. It might not even work.” 

“It’s not your job to worry about me, Kandros, and I’ll figure those blueprints out.” Part of her felt angry, almost coddled. She wasn’t a kid- she was the Pathfinder, no matter what anyone said, and no one was going to hold her back. Every decision she made was difficult, and enough people questioned her without Kandros adding to the pile.

“It’s my job to worry about everyone, whether or not I like it.” And from his tone, it was clear there were days when Kandros didn’t like it. Ryder hadn’t stopped to consider what his own hardships would be like, so wrapped up in her own. At least her crew had managed not to die yet, but what if she lost one of them? People she had fought with, trained with. People she was in charge of. “Are you okay?” he finally asked, breaking the silence. 

Her hand slid over to his knee, and then his fingers found her, intertwining quietly. “It fucking hurts, Kandros. That’s what they don’t say about dying. It hurts, and coming back hurts even more and it sucks in every way you can imagine.” No one said she was a poet. She stated things as they were, and there weren’t words enough to explain how cheating death twice felt. “My chest hurts. My head hurts. I’m not allowed to do anything for at least another twenty-four hours, according to Lexi, and all I wanted to do was see you. Kind of stupid.” 

“Kind of,” he agreed, anger fading from his voice. “Can you try not to die again? Tann may want to kick you out of the Initiative entirely, and I can’t deal with worrying about you and trying to calm him down.” Though his fingers were not especially dextrous, he ran one over the palm of her hand in small circles, over and over again, the claw providing pleasant frisson. 

A grin cracked Ryder’s face, feeling refreshing. Anything other than the frown that had been plastered there since the ship, better than the nightmares that had woken her up by squeezing her chest ever since. “I’ll do my best.” Finally she felt loose enough to lean against his shoulder, closing her eyes. “I’ve got to go to Kadara still. Sloane sent a message- she said it was urgent.” Kandros’ shoulder wasn’t exactly comfortable, but he was familiar, the smell of her him making muscles unknot, even those back muscles that had been constantly clenched since the flagship. 

“I’ve got another week of owed downtime. I’m going with you. Sloane… I need to see her again. I need to ask her why.” He didn’t move, except to settle his body slightly, also leaning back, head resting on top of hers. His breaths made her hair flutter slightly, not unpleasantly.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Whatever had happened between them was in the past; he clearly still thought about Sloane’s perceived betrayal of the Nexus, and it was just something else to heap onto his plate.

“It’s a better idea than dying.” Point taken. To Kadara they would go, but not until they had both taken a well-earned nap, the nightmare screams of people they’d failed for once not ringing in their ears.


	8. Unexpected Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tiran Kandros insists that Wren Ryder takes him to Kadara, to witness the final showdown between Sloane Kelly and the Charlatan. Expecting to confront Sloane directly, he's instead startled to find he changes the course of the battle entirely. 
> 
> All Kelly/Kandros background is taken from the Uprising novel and is canon. Did he have a thing going on with her? The world may never know, but what happens next for Ryder and Kandros?
> 
> As always, comments welcome and encouraged!

Kadara stank of rotten eggs, appropriate given the situation that Wren Ryder and Kandros had found themselves in. “Sloane won’t like you coming with,” was all she told him, but she had let him board the Tempest, and let him share her room as they traveled to the planet, not saying much else; there wasn’t anything to say. They knew the risks, but as far as Kandros was concerned, Sloane was still a matter of Nexus security, and what happened on Kadara could change everything. Whether the change would be for the better or for the worse remained to be seen.

Now they rode in the Nomad together, Ryder’s fingers tight around the wheel as she maneuvered up and down hills, trying to not do a shitty job of driving. “Please try not to kill us, Ryder,” Kandros said, holding on to a sidebar put there for that express purpose. Well, the key word there had been ‘trying.’

Despite Ryder’s questionable driving skills, they arrived at their meeting spot on time, though neither got out of the vehicle just yet. “What was she like? Before this, I mean.” It was Ryder who broke the silence, Kandros staring straight ahead out the windscreen, trying to see any human figures near the cave entrance.

“A good leader. Capable. There was a lot about Sloane to admire.” And maybe more than admire, if Kandros’ tone was anything to go off of. Ryder didn’t push any further, though whether it was for her sake or his, she didn’t know. “It’s hard to believe she would fall to this. She is- was- a helluva woman.” With that, Kandros opened the door to the Nomad and stepped out, unfolding his body and stretching out his neck. Ryder followed silently, eventually overtaking him to walk in front, trying to put her body as a shield between Kandros and Sloane’s figure, becoming larger as they walked slightly uphill. 

Focused completely on the mission, Sloane didn’t seem to notice Kandros at first, her eyes snapping to Ryder as she said, “Took your sweet time.” Then she seemed to realize that Kandros was not Vetra, and her frown only deepened, arms dropping from being across her chest so that one hand could rest on the holster of her pistol. “What the hell is he doing here, Ryder? I don’t recall telling you that you could invite… guests.”

Stuck between the two of them, Ryder felt largely ignored and strangely small, but she stood her ground. “Don’t you think you owe Kandros an explanation, Sloane? He-”

“Can speak for himself,” Kandros finished. “I had to see what kind of… paradise Sloane Kelly left us for. Glad to see you made so much of yourself after betraying the Initiative.” Every word dripped with disdain, but he didn’t even bother to reach for his own gun. One corner of his mandibles twitched, something in the movement like a pulsing vein in the forehead, or like a quivering mouth corner. 

“I don’t have time for this macho bullshit. Come on, Ryder. Let’s get this over with.” Whatever confrontation Kandros had expected, it wasn’t this. Sloane turned her back on him entirely, the conversation apparently over. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then shook his head. Later. There would be time for it after, even if Kandros had to force it at the end of a gun.

The three of them entered the darkness of the cave, a single, broad ray of light illuminating a cluster of rocks like they were a stage. It was suitably overdramatic, sending Ryder’s mind into overdrive. There was something to be said for going with another woman to take revenge on something done to her turian lover and if Sloane had been more likable, perhaps Ryder would have actually offered some comfort, or at least tried to. Kaetus wasn’t there, though she had little doubt that he would have been if he hadn’t been hospital-bound.

“You look like you’re waiting for someone.” A voice from above and a body from the shadows, turning into a familiar form. Reyes Vidal. Not a complete idiot, Ryder had her suspicions from the start- people gravitated to Reyes. He was well-known, and seemed to have pull that no ostensibly ordinary man on Kadara should have. He was a friend, of a sorts, close enough that she thought he would have said something. Apparently not. She looked behind her, but Kandros only looked puzzled. Reyes would be nothing but a name on reports to him, the situation escalating out of his control, a rapid dialogue between Ryder, Sloane, and Reyes that named people and situations he would have never heard about. It was hardly the reunion with Sloane that Kandros wanted, but there was no space for him to step in.

Reyes dropped down, sending motes of dust swirling into the soft sunlight. “A duel. You and me. Right now. Winner takes Kadara Port.”

“I’ll take those terms.” Kelly spat into the dirt at her feet.

Kandros grabbed Ryder’s shoulder, pulling her back from the almost gravitational orbit the two now-circling combatants seemed to have. “I can’t stand by and watch this happen, Ryder. Sloane needs to be extradited back to the Nexus and the Charlatan is a possible threat to Nexus security.” His hand on her shoulder was too tight, though he seemed to realize it, lightening his grip fractionally, eyes never straying from the two.

“This is their battle. It’s not just you versus Sloane anymore.” It never had been. The day had spiraled out of even Ryder’s control, meaning they could only watch as Sloane’s hand curled around her gun, a faintly cocky smile gracing Reyes’ face.

Another few tense seconds of watching, and then Kandros leaned into her ear again, breath a tense whisper. “Sniper. He has his sights on Sloane. Ryder, I can’t let them.”

“Kandros, don’t let yourself get shot for this idiotic fight over Kadara,” but he was already moving towards Sloane. Whatever he thought of her, he needed the revenge to be on his terms, and he couldn’t just stand by and watch a woman die. Sloane Kelly, former head of Nexus security. Sloane Kelly, leader of the Outcasts, responsible for deaths back at home, a rebellion that had occurred when Kandros was still lost in the vastness of their new galaxy. He had taken up her title and her mantle, but never easily, and damned if he was going to let her die, not when he still had to ask her why.

Just as the shot rang out, Kandros pulled Sloane backward, the unexpected movement throwing off her center of gravity so that she stumbled. What should have been a gut shot went high instead as Sloane sank downward, hitting her upper chest and rocketing her backward. Blood flooded instant and liberally, coating Kandros’ fingers as he put pressure on it. “Ryder!”

“Kallo, we need immediate medical evac to my coordinates. Tell Lexi to prepare for trauma, gunshot wound.” If they didn’t act quickly, it would be fatal. As it was, there was no way Sloane could run Kadara like this; she would be out of commission for weeks, if not months. If she survived at all.

“Kadara Port is ours tonight.” Evidently, Reyes agreed, already directing his men into movement.

Covered in Sloane’s bed, Ryder shook her head. “Reyes. I can’t say I agreed to any of these tactics. We need to have a discussion, you and I, when this is over.” There was no time for it now; Kandros lifted Sloane’s top half and Ryder took her feet, both jogging, trying not to jostle her. Sloane was already pale, completely unconscious, but the Tempest was descending with the dock lowered, Lexi running out with an emergency trauma kit in hand, Drack and Vetra following closely behind with a stretcher between them.

As gently as she could, Ryder helped Sloane into the stretcher. She would have to radio Kaetus as well, to let him know what had happened. He’d want to be on the Tempest with Sloane, no matter what happened afterwards. One empire was crumbling and another had risen, and though she thought Reyes would do a better job… This was a fucking mess.

Kandros and Ryder were left at the bottom of the ramp, Kandros shaking his head. “This isn’t how I wanted it to go, Ryder. I didn’t want her to die.” He was broken, almost small, and so tired. 

“She could still survive. Lexi is the best doctor I know. She’s brought me back at least once.” The attempt at levity missed entirely, Ryder’s false smile fading as soon as it appeared.

Blood-soaked fingers entwined with his, not caring about the mess they made. They were silent for some time, still just standing there. She leaned forward so her head could rest against his armored chest, and he put his head on top of hers, tilting his face downward to rest in her hair, each soft breath sending stray strands floating upward. “She’ll survive, Kandros. Then you can ask her every question you have.”

“Ryder, I’ve managed to decrypt the Meridian files.” Gil’s timing was impeccable.

“I need to be alone. I’ll take the Nomad and take care of Kaetus, bring him back to the ship. Let me talk to him.” Turian on turian, or man on man. Lover on lover? Ryder’s head was pounding and she wanted nothing more than a long shower; there was blood in her hair now, from where she had inadvertently reached upward to straighten something out.

“Kandros, I’m here.” It was all she could offer. It wasn’t enough.  
“I know,” he said, and they stood for a moment longer before breaking apart. They both had work to do, miles to go before they could bathe and sleep and rest.


	9. The Thirst Strikes Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some levity in the midst of so much angst, and bringing the series back to its roots. Comments super appreciated- I feel like people have been quiet lately, so if I'm doing something wrong, let me know. :( 
> 
> Their journey will soon end, but their dirty talk will live on forever.

Another morning and another breakfast, this time mostly in their galley kitchen, Wren Ryder sipping powdered coffee blearily, hating the taste but needing the rush of caffeine, barely noticing when Peebee came in to make her own breakfast. There were a few minutes of companionable silence, Ryder sitting down on the floor and staring forward, trying to mentally sort out the past few days and eventually giving up in favor of just trying to feel moderately alive. 

“So, Ryder, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” Peebee broke the silence first, sounding far too chipper and far too awake for the current, ungodly hour. Ryder took another hard drink of coffee, choking slightly as it burned her throat and then managed to nod and grunt. Questions. She could answer those. All cylinders were definitely firing. 

"With Kandros, how is the… you know?” Peebee’s voice trailed off and Ryder blinked twice, feeling stupid and slow, settling for looking at the asari blankly. “The sex, Ryder. How is the sex?” Sounding eager rather than flustered, Peebee blurted out the rest of her question and pulled a sip of her own drink, looking over the rim of the cup and then winking outrageously at Ryder. 

It was definitely too early for this and Ryder choked again, this time spluttering as she tried to come up with some kind of answer. “Not really information I want to volunteer, Peebee,” was what she settled on, trying to sound dignified but instead sounding like there was something stuck in her windpipe, face turning bright red. 

“Ryder, come on. Just between us. I’ve never been with a turian. Is it good?” Now Peebee was wheedling, tone grating. 

Well, Ryder was definitely awake now, thoughts full of Kandros in a way that wasn’t unpleasant if she hadn’t had company. “Look, Peebee. Kandros is great. It’s all great. Fantastic. Is that what you want to hear?” 

Peebee put her drink down carefully, taking one of Ryder’s hands in her own and patting them. “You’re not a virgin, are you?” she asked, tone dripping with sympathy. 

“Fuck, Peebee, no, but Kandros wasn’t exactly in the right frame of mind this trip.” And they had both been too tired back on the Nexus, but Ryder wasn’t about to describe the whole of her bedroom activities with her bedroom to anyone, especially Peebee, who would no doubt tell everyone on the Tempest about it. Shit, but now Ryder couldn’t stop thinking about Kandros. “I’m going back to bed,” she announced, pulling her hand back from Peebee and pushing away from the wall abruptly. 

Laughing, Peebee waved her off, apparently having determined that the conversation was only over temporarily. “Okay, tell me later Ryder. Tell Kandros I said hi!”

Though she had seen Kandros as recently as yesterday, he was heading back to the Nexus on a shuttle, their paths taking them in different directions again. The Tempest was traveling slowly; Ryder still had things to do on Kadara to help Reyes sort out the succession, and Lexi wanted access to more medicals to help in stabilizing Sloane, who was still unconscious in their medbay. It was a lot on everyone’s plate, but Kandros didn’t have the time to take off. His last email to her had been terse, but… There was one more Ryder would send to him, thoughts now full of sex. Thanks, Peebee. Great job. 

Sitting down at her computer, Ryder cracked her knuckles, wracking her brain for the right way to phrase her email. 

_ Kandros,  _

_It’s been less than a day and I miss you. Kind of sad, really._ _Every inch of me misses you._

Too cheesy? But it was true. 

_ Would it be weird if I ask if you miss me too?  _

No, delete that last one, say the first thing that came to mind and then just send it, not stopping to think about how stupid it sounded once it was written down. 

_ How many inches do you miss me with?  _

_ Ryder _

Email sent. Ryder stood up and stretched, heading to the shower. A cold one would do her some good, clearing her head and making her think about Kandros slightly less. Damn it, she was a grown woman and not a horny teenager, and yet. 

There was a message waiting for her by the time the shower was done and she clicked it open eagerly. 

_ Pathfinder, this hardly seems like the most appropriate use of emails. I’d like to remind you that these aren’t encrypted.  _

_ Also, turians don’t measure in inches. I have pictorial evidence of how much I miss you if needed. _

_ Head of Nexus Security, _

_ Tiran Kandros _

There was an attached image file and she clicked it open, already feeling the flush in her cheeks. And… it was an image of his face, winking at her, angled slightly to the side so she could see that area of his mouth where his tongue was visible. It was both a relief and a disappointment, washing through her in waves colder than the shower. She was quick to type something up in reply, hoping he was sitting there waiting but knowing he probably wasn’t. 

_ I know it wasn’t your intention, but I can’t help but wonder what your tongue can do. I feel like we haven’t explored this enough.  _

_ Official Pathfinder Wren Ryder  _

A few minutes of official paperwork later (she didn't have to actually read what she signed, did she?) and there was a reply.

_ I believe you once mentioned me arresting you, Official Pathfinder. With the aid of Official Head of Nexus Security restraints, we can test out what my tongue is capable of.  _

Ryder burned hot, wishing he was there, wanting to reach under her towel but needing to start her day. One last email. 

_ I can’t type anymore. This is your fault, Kandros. Meet you back at the Nexus?  _

His email came back almost right away. 

_ Locked in a bathroom, attempting to not be suspicious. I’ll meet you there. _

Another embedded jpeg, this one encrypted, able to be unlocked only by SAM, and it was definitely not Kandros’ face. 

 


	10. Facing Meridian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kandros takes Wren Ryder's proposed trip to Meridian poorly, leading to an argument, but after her twin wakes up, she comes to a revelation. Comments always appreciated. <3

Before any reunions, before any personal time and any time to simply be herself, Wren Ryder had the Nexus leadership to deal with. The fact that she was dating one of them- Tiran Kandros- didn’t matter at all. She hadn’t told him about the plans for Meridian they’d found; he would have to wait and hear it with Kesh, Tann, and Addison, but his was the only vote she felt she could count on. If he could convince the others, they might do this whole, crazy thing. Figure out what, exactly, Meridian was, get there before the kett, stop them, figure out ancient Remnant tech in the process… The possibilities were dizzying and endless, a map made of light spilling out with a flick of her fingertips, making her excited even to think about it all, enthusiasm spilling with every word. 

Which is why it was all the more shocking when they all said no- Kesh, Tann, Addison, and Kandros alike, only her fellow Pathfinders stepping forward to support her. 

When the discussion was done (definitively, the other three heads stepping away, the Pathfinders vowing to meet her in tech lab later), Ryder tracked down Kandros. He had waited for her, apology written into every feature already, hands held out slightly in front of him, palms down. All it did was make her feel more defensive in turn, shaking her head as she closed the distance between them and standing a few feet away, arms crossed. “Kandros, how could you?” It was the only thing she could think to say. 

He was prepared for whatever she had to say. “Priorities, Ryder. I have to worry about everyone on the Nexus. That includes three arks. Not that I’m not grateful, but it’s thousands more people than we had before.” 

“You think the kett are just going to stand back and give us our space?” A point she had brought up in the earlier discussion, but she repeated it now, throwing her hands up in exasperation. 

“I think that you’ve directly provoked them enough without possibly throwing away your life on something we don’t fully understand. You died, Ryder. Don’t do it again.” Kandros moved forward as if to touch her, but Ryder backed away, still shaking her head. 

“Kandros, please. I need your support, at least. Even if it’s off the books.” He had to understand- this was a risk that was necessary. She wasn’t doing it just for fun, damn it. None of this was fun, but this was the best possibility they had and that they would have for months, if not longer. She would carve a new home in this galaxy, but whether she would do it with brute force or with a fine knife remained to be seen. 

He stopped trying to reach out to her, hands dropping to his side, shoulders stiff. “I can’t. I’m sorry, but I won’t risk lives for this, and I don’t want you to risk yours. I have to keep everyone safe- you included.”  
“Then the discussion is over.” She didn’t even want to look at him anymore, turning and taking a few steps away, trying to exit the room with a dignity she didn’t feel, face burning red, hands opening and closing spasmodically. Open, close. Fists, loose fingers, fists again. 

Tann’s aide stopped her before she could leave the room. “Pathfinder, apologies. There was an urgent message for you- they said your brother is awake.” 

Scott. Any other thoughts Wren had emptied from her head- she had to see him. It was suddenly more important than anything else, more important than any arguments and any Meridian. She looked over her shoulder once; Kandros was close enough to have heard, but he still looked stricken. No time though. She could (and probably would) worry about their argument later. For now, she had to see her brother and see if he was okay. He had been asleep for so long. 

Scott was sitting up when she entered, and it was difficult to resist squeezing him half to death. Their conversation flew swiftly; though Scott was clearly still exhausted, they had so much to catch up on, including the death of their father and everything Wren had done while he had been asleep. Eventually, they were up to date, though it still felt like there was so much more to say. Twenty minutes of discussion couldn’t fit in the weeks of adventures, couldn’t possibly capture every new crewmember that had joined her, but for now she had to settle for holding his hand, patting it awkwardly now and then, looking down on him. He looked like shit, which she had gladly told him several times. 

“Look,” Scott finally said, “You’re not looking too great yourself.” He was mostly teasing, but something in his tone was entirely too sympathetic and she was having none of that. 

“I’m pretty sure I have the authority to send you right back into stasis.” Mock-serious, as if she would ever act out on the threat. 

“I’m not kidding. You look… worried. Besides the obvious, what’s wrong?” Serious conversations with her baby brother, beyond the scope of what they had already discussed, hadn’t been on Wren Ryder’s agenda, yet here she was. She could feel how her own brow was furrowed, the space between her eyes hot and tight, a line forming somewhere near the center of her forehead. Her twin wasn’t wrong, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it seemed almost cruel to suddenly reveal that not only did she have a relationship she hadn’t revealed to him, but that they had fought today as well. 

“You know Tiran Kandros? Head of Nexus security?” was what she settled on, two statements ending in a question each. Scott merely nodded, waving a hand to indicate, ‘go on.’ 

“We’re… uh… dating. Partners, I guess.” Dating sounded too light, considering the shit they had already been through. “But I told you about the whole crazy Meridian thing we’ve found, and he worked with Tann and Kesh and Addison to say he couldn’t lend his support to me. Not just professionally, but personally. I’m not a kid, Scott.” She was already trying to find off his objections before he could even say anything. 

Blinking, Scott shook his head. “Maybe he’s just worried.” His tone was unexpectedly meek. “From everything you’ve told me, you’ve done some stupid shit, sis, and now he has to worry about you personally on top of everyone else on the Nexus. Can’t be easy.” He yawned then, sinking back down on his pillows and giving up any semblance of propping himself up and awake. 

It was always galling when Scott was right, doubly so when he was just reinforcing the earlier thoughts that had been creeping into Ryder’s mind. “I should let you rest.” Conversation over. She still had to meet with the other Pathfinders, still had so many decisions left to make. Her mind was already made up- she would find a way to Meridian one way or another, but as she left Scott, she paused in a corner, speaking to SAM. 

“Set up an email, but don’t send it until I’m back on the Tempest and leaving here. Send it to Kandros. Just say… ‘sorry. I love you.’”


	11. Meeting the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Family' means something different to everyone, but what does it mean for Tiran Kandros? On her return to the Nexus, Kandros takes Wren Ryder to a family dinner, and says some fateful words to her. Comments are always super appreciated! And should I be bad and have a smut chapter next? ;) 
> 
> Art by skellagirl.tumblr.com for me.
> 
> Taavet and Nora are @nerdyholler ‘s creation, graciously loaned to me.]

In Nexus time, it was late, but there was a crowd waiting for Wren Ryder as she disembarked from the Tempest, body flooded with the endorphins of having been proven absolutely correct about the importance of Meridian. Most of the waiting were angara; the news about their own origins had traveled quickly, an email from Jaal to Sahuna having already spread across multiple planets and into every star system. They weren’t angry, exactly, but they had questions, some shouted out already, the rest waiting behind pursed lips and eager eyes. A headache was brewing somewhere near the crown of Ryder’s head; she didn’t have the answers they wanted yet, though she had an idea of where they might find some more.

Even among the angara, generally a tall species, the single turian that waited stood out, lingering near the middle of the crowd, arms folded, simply waiting. Ryder’s heart was somewhere in the vicinity of her throat, a feeling not dissimilar to when she had first met Tiran Kandros, though the root of it was different this time. By going to Meridian, she had acted directly against the wishes of Nexus leadership, and Kandros’ personal wishes, and then she’d had the gall to send an email ending with ‘I love you,’ words they had never exchanged in person. Not a series of smooth moves, as far as their relationship went.

Kandros pushed through the crowd, gentle with his movements but direct, firm. He was going straight for her, and people slowly got out of his way, though they still clamored for her attention. And why wouldn’t they? He was head of Nexus security, and the story of the Pathfinder’s defiance was already one whispered along corridors. Keri would probably have a documentary out about it by the end of the week.  

They stood face to face but a few feet apart, Kandros’ eyes moving up and down her body, ascertaining that she was still in one piece before he stepped forward and put his arms around her, drawing Ryder to his chest and squeezing fiercely, tight enough that it was difficult to breathe. He released her just in time to take a deep breath, and then, in front of their entire audience, kissed her hard, almost desperately in a move that seemed to surprise both of them. Stiff at first, Ryder yielded, and Kandros grew more gentle, his kiss no longer so hard or so hungry, though there was still an edge to it that seemed to say ‘thank you for coming back,’ and when he finally pulled away, his hand lingered on the side of her face, cupping her jaw slightly and tracing the shape of her cheekbone down to the hollow of her throat before dropping to his side once again.  “You endangered the entire Nexus. You endangered yourself. Come to dinner with me, right now.” It was clear he wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer.  

“Who eats this late at night?” Her arguments were weak, and Ryder was letting Kandros lead her out of the commotion and towards the apartments, a few people making small noises to voice their displeasure but no one actually bothering to stop them. There may have even been a wolf whistle or two.

They soon passed by Kandros’ space, heading deeper into the Nexus, where units were larger and designed to accommodate more people. Finally, they stopped before a front door, identical to any other, though many of the rooms here were unoccupied as of yet, a constant reshuffling of resources and allocations meaning that not everything had been sorted out quite yet, even if most of the damage done by the Scourge had been more-or-less repaired. “Family,” was all Kandros answered her with, opening the door with a swipe of the omni-tool, making it clear that he had a key to the place.

Ryder’s first impression was one of comfortable noise, a chaos that came from multiple people crammed into a relatively small space and bantering and bickering as they saw fit. The smell of food assailed her yet, and she was slightly embarrassed when her stomach growled loudly. When was the last time she had a bite to eat? Not for a while- this morning, maybe, but since then she had been tied up in emails and nerves.

A long table dominated almost the entirety of the room, easily capable of seating ten. Any other furniture was shoved against the wall, a couch and a few chairs stacked on top of each other haphazardly to make space. It seemed like every species was there, from an asari to a krogan, and even an angara, holding hands with a human woman. They all turned to look at Kandros as he walked in, calling out greetings and waving, though they clearly hadn’t waited for him before they started eating. When Ryder appeared, however, they  were silent for what seemed like the longest few seconds of Ryder’s life before they all started speaking at once.

“When you said you were bringing your girlfriend, we didn’t think you meant the human Pathfinder, Tiran.”

“Oh shit, the rumors are true? Way to go!”

“Someone give up a chair for Ryder.”

“Don’t give Kandros one though. He’ll get ideas.”

There was a sudden jostling as people relocated themselves, shoving closer to each other, two chairs miraculously appearing near the head of the table, a sea of expectant, beaming faces, all waiting for their introduction.

“Ryder, this is the strike team. APEX, this is Pathfinder Wren Ryder.” More waves and hellos, this time at her. Blinking and bemused, Ryder sat down gingerly in a chair, taking in the sheer variety of food.

“Green bowls are safe for humans to eat,” Kandros added, his movements almost bashful, a mandible twitch in substitution of a blush as his team continued to jostle him good-naturedly, jokes about ‘paths found’ a plenty.

Going around the table, the APEX team introduced themselves and Ryder resigned herself to not remembering half the names. “This isn’t the full team, of course,” Kandros added. He looked happier and more relaxed than he had been in some time, despite the teasing, passing red bowls back and forth down the table, snapping a quip right back at the only other turian at the table, leaning back in his chair and simply smiling.

“We’re not all awful,” the human woman next to Ryder said. Nora, if she remembered correctly, the one who had been holding hands with the angara. “Try the potatoes,” she added, passing Ryder something approximately cheesy and potato-y.

“I didn’t know that any angara had joined APEX.” A stupid comment to make, but one that the angara next to Nora was happy to answer, his voice a low rumble. Taavet. Yah, that had been it.

“We wanted to help. Kandros made it easy to feel like we belonged. He debriefs and motivates us. He made us a family.” He gave the woman next to him a small squeeze and she smiled up at him with obvious affection. Ryder couldn’t help but smile, feeling all the tension she had been holding for the past few weeks draining out of her body slowly.

In time, she found herself joining the conversation. The APEX team knew the kett and the remnant almost as well as she did, their war stories lively. It didn’t hurt that the food was the best she’d had in… about six hundred years, actually. Every now and then, Kandros’ leg would brush her own under the table, his hand resting on her knee comfortably when he wasn’t eating or gesturing, utensils an extension of his own body as he pointed and jabbed to punctuate his points.

Without coffee, however, Ryder was flagging, eyes growing heavy as her stomach grew full. “A moment of silence, please.” That was Kandros, speaking again. “That’s our tradition- we eat together once a week, when we can. We honor those we lost.” Heads were bowed, everyone growing quiet. Some leaned against each other, while others were clearly still angry. Grief was still far too raw for everyone, and for the length of the silence, Kandros looked heavy again.  

Then it was over, and though people didn’t go straight back to smiles and laughter, they were relaxed and contemplative, carrying dishes over to the small kitchen sink and just piling them. “Least kills does the dishes,” Nora explained, folding up one of the chairs and helping collapse the table so that it could be stored in a corner, couch and armchairs moved back to their previous positions. One by one, people waved to Kandros and shook her hand, winking at both of them as they said they were going to bed. Wouldn’t the Pathfinder like to do the same?

Soon, Kandros and Ryder were the last two standing. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, the hug not as tight as before but still firm. For a minute they just stood, her arms around his waist, breathing in tandem with each other.

“I got your email,” he finally said, and she didn’t know how to respond. In retrospect, sending an email ‘I love you’ instead of just saying it in person had been a stupid mistake. “This isn’t easy, Ryder. None of this is. I…” He looked away, above her head, and stepped back from her, shaking his head.  

“Shit, Kandros. Let me say it, instead of just spelling it out. I love you.” It was probably too early. He was probably going to say nothing in reply, or say it was too soon, or that he was still pissed at her for not telling him she was going after Meridian after all.

“I love you too, Ryder.” Too soon or not, he agreed. “I’ll send an email to confirm,” he teased, and they moved together again, lips meeting the turian equivalent, (such as it was) kissing him in this strange apartment, silence from the rooms around them until someone popped their head out and began to clap.

“Good job, boss!” A few more heads popped out and more applause, and Ryder and Kandros broke apart, her face turning beet-red.

“Get a room, you two,” the other turian said, throwing a pillow from the bedroom towards them.

 “Not a bad idea, Ryder.” Offering his hand, Kandros led her outside, back towards his apartment. Not a bad idea at all.


	12. The Smut Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just call this the smut chapter. 
> 
> Ryder and Kandros face the inevitability of Meridian as only they know how.

The end was an inevitability, but it had never, before this moment, been one that was so close. Three separate sections of the Scourge triangulated towards a single, discrete point. Meridian, and their destination, whatever those might be. 

“This is it.” After she had briefed Nexus leadership, Wren Ryder went with Tiran Kandros back to his room. They sat side by side on his couch, a hologram spread before them showing… whatever it was. A single point of light that could be planet or asteroid, or something else entirely. “I have to get there before the kett. We leave tonight, in a few hours.” It might already be too late, a thought that she didn’t voice out loud, but there had to be time to say goodbye. Not just for her, though she was selfish enough to want it, but for everyone. 

Kandros twisted the projector back and forth, as if seeing the dim image at a new angle might provide answers. “We have to get there before the kett, and we will. A few hours won’t make a difference at this point. Our ships are faster.” Even now shuttles were being packed full. On every inhabited planet, people were getting ready, priming weapons and putting on their armor, faces grim, and in the Nexus, people waved goodbye to loved ones, holding them close. It was all they could do. 

“Mm. I wish I had your confidence, Kandros.” Standing, Wren reached to flip the holo off, folding the device up and tossing it from hand to hand. 

Kandros’ eyes watched her and he shook his head before offering a suggestion. “What you need is some good old-fashioned turian military stress relief.” 

Okay. She’d bite. “And that is?” 

Kandros pulled her back onto the couch and she folded her legs up underneath her. “Oh, you know…” he added, voice trailing off. 

“Is it yoga? Because Lexi suggested yoga already, and I said no then and I’ll say no now.” Yoga was just another reminder that she wasn’t flexible at all. 

Kandros ran a hand down his face, tugging at his own mandibles and shaking his head. “No, Ryder. Not yoga. Sex. We have a few hours before we have to leave, and if this all goes to shit… I want something to remember you by.” It was the first time that evening he had sounded anything less than 100% confident that they would both come home and reunite at the end of this; his face locked-down and guarded, but she had learned to read every micro-twitch, the distinct way he held himself when it was all becoming too much to be heaped onto one plate. 

“Oh, yah. That would be nice. Just like old times. Not a great first date story, is it? We slept together and somehow it became… this.” Ryder’s gesture took in the two of them and Kandros’ apartment. She had started to leave a toothbrush there, some body wash, a change of clothing. Things that would suggest she would come back. They would still be there for her if she came home from this. When. 

It was, perhaps, not the most intimate or delicately worded proposition, but the constant ticking in Ryder’s mind reminded her that there just weren’t enough hours for that. Far easier to pull Kandros towards the bed, feel him happily concede the lead, than to talk about feelings or eventualities or the looming prospect of death by kett. 

Every layer of clothes they shed felt like a layer of worries being stripped away. A shirt- they wouldn’t get there in time. Her bra- the kett would have armed ships, all too eager to fire. Their pants- Meridian wouldn’t be what they needed it to be. Underwear- death. 

Once they were in bed, a few steps across the small living room to an even smaller bedroom, it was almost a relief for Ryder to let Kandros take control, a rare concession that made his pupils grow wide and then quickly dilate. They could both work with this, a task that Kandros bent to with gusto, pinning Ryder down on the bed, her wrists beneath his hands, kissing her on the mouth. As she leaned into him, he pulled back, a teasing smile just hinted by his facial structure. His kisses descended downward- the center of her throat, and then the hollow. The space between her breasts, a flick of the tongue for each nipple but not enough, not near enough. Her stomach, her hipbones, and then- 

There were many uses for the turian tongue, a dextrous, thin appendage capable of both a great deal of strength and flexibility. It was something they had discussed and joked about, but there had never been the right moment. Now Kandros let go of Ryder’s hands and she gripped his sheets tightly, part of her mind locked away enough to worry that he would be mad if she tore them, the rest of her succumbing to the joy of the experience. He really was very good at what he was doing, enough so that Ryder wondered if he had done it before, but what did it matter if he had? 

Closer, ever closer, to that edge but Kandros pulled back again, making Ryder groan out, “No, please, don’t stop.” 

“Not my intention, Ryder.” He had pulled his body up to be level with hers again, resting on his elbows so that they were almost chest to chest. She pulled his face down to hers even as he entered her, her legs rising to go around his waist. Every second and every thrust felt almost desperate, the knowledge that this could be the final time they were intimate seeming to hit them both at the same time. It almost seemed appropriate that their entire relationship had started with drinks and what they had both thought would be a quick one and done fling, and now it could potentially end with… something more. Whatever this was. 

“Kandros,” she said, at the same time as he groaned, “Ryder.” One final movement together and he gently rolled off her, laying at her side and panting softly in the way that overheated turians did, mouth slightly open, teeth showing. Ryder moved closer to him and he molded his body around her, back to her stomach, face half-nested within a curtain of her purple hair. 

“We need to get dressed and get ready to go.” Time was going by too quickly, and there was still so much to do, politics to manage and people to rally, but Kandros sounded utterly reluctant to actually follow his own words. 

“I want to take a nap.” Her limbs were filled with pleasant lassitude, and the thought of getting out of bed and facing the world may well have been the most distasteful thing she had experienced. 

Kandros responded by nipping the back of her neck, not hard, but enough that she yelped and sat up, scowling at him and throwing the blanket over his head as she wiggled back into her clothing. It was over all too quickly, and now it was time to get down to business. 

Before stepping back into the chaos of the Nexus, she and Kandros paused, facing each other. Almost in unison, their hands rose so they both traced each other’s jawlines carefully, almost longingly. “Ryder, come back to me. None of this dying bullshit, okay?” The same thing he had requested of her again and again, but his tone was more urgent this time, tipping her chin so that she had to look him in the eyes. “I love you, and this station would be lonely without you giving Tann attitude.” Those three words made her heart pound, even if it wasn’t the first time had had said it, but could she really make that promise? 

“I’m going to do my best, Kandros. You think I want to leave Tann unchecked?” A flimsy joke, but enough to make Kandros give a ghost of a smile. “I love you too. I can’t believe I traveled to a new galaxy just to fall in love with a damn turian.” They never would have met back home, but it was a funny thing, wasn’t it? 

“I can’t help it if you humans have weird kinks for us.” The moment was ruined when Ryder attempted a soft punch to Kandros’ sternum, only managing to bruise her hand and set him into a hit of helpless laughter, ending it by sweeping her in close for another kiss. 

No one knew what Meridian would be, but she would do everything in her power to come back to him. To come home.


	13. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is. The final chapter of ‘New Galaxy, Same Old Thirst.’ I say that, but I have so much more to write about these two and so many more stories to tell, so this isn’t the last you’ll see of Wren Ryder and Tiran Kandros by a longshot. That said, I hope you’ve enjoyed the series, and I’d love to hear what you think about this chapter and the thing as a whole. :)

Dying fucking sucked. It sucked the first time, the second time, and now for the third time, it hadn’t improved. Clawing her way across the floor, Wren Ryder’s head was filled with all the times she had failed and what this final failure might mean. If she didn’t success, didn’t keep crawling across the floor on her hands and knees, everyone would be lost. Her team, the Nexus, every outpost she had worked so hard to help establish. So many people to let down… and her brain swung back to Kandros. His one request had been for her to not die and she was about to fail him too. “SAM.” Her breath was coming in labored gasps now, but she could just choke out a message to the AI. “Send protocol email eight- death. Recipient, Kandros.” 

So much. Too much, but she staggered to her feet, one foot in front of the other, every step a painful lance of fire. Without SAM, she felt strangely empty, her head echoing with too much and not enough at the same time. She had never wanted the AI’s strange relationship, but suddenly left without, she found herself missing him, that almost sarcastic tone to his otherwise carefully modulated, artificial voice. Without him, she was dying, and there was no way to reclaim him. 

Failure, but she would try one more step, fingers reaching for a console that wasn’t there, stretching and then… nothing but black. 

**** 

Kandros,

If you’re getting this, I’m probably dead. I’m sorry. Look, I’m not good with words and I don’t know what else to say. I could repeat everything a million times- I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry- but I don’t think it would work really well. 

I love you. 

Wren Ryder

**** 

Back to life with a gasp, Vetra and Jaal immediately at her side, lifting her up by the elbows. There was only pressing on for Ryder, though she took a moment to feel the pleasure of oxygen in her lungs again, her body craving it, every part of her aching. Her head hurt like nothing she had ever experienced before, the sensation of SAM’s return almost as painful as his initial activation. With him, she was whole again, but it was another reminder that her own mind would never be her own again. More pressing concerns though, questions she needed answered. “SAM, did you send that email?” 

“Yes, Ryder.” There would be no getting it back now. Kandros would worry, but onward she went. If every step lanced fire, if her head felt like it would split, it had to be worth it. The damage she was doing to her body would save them all and it suddenly seemed like a small price to pay. One lone woman for a whole galaxy? A fair swap. She should have added that in her message to him, something about balances and sacrifices, but too late now. 

Pain would always be worth it, in the end. 

**** 

Was Scott leaning on her, or was she leaning on Scott? All Ryder wanted to do was curl up and nap somewhere, but there was enough adrenaline pumping through her body to keep her awake for weeks. They did it. She did it. They secured Meridian and pushed the kett back, at least for now. They had made a home, and for the first time, it felt right to call Andromeda exactly that. Home. What a weird word to attach to foreign stars, unnamed constellations, and a planetoid made by some mysterious race that had left only hints. There was so much left to discover, but now they had the time to do so without worrying about constant attack. Maybe even the Scourge would vanish one day, making it safer to fly. 

Lexi lifted Scott from Ryder’s shoulders and she was walking on her own, at least for a few steps, her eyes adjusting to the bright sunlight after so long in Meridian’s dark core. Blurry shapes resolved themselves into familiar faces; they were waiting for her, everyone she had ever met and helped, the smiles wide across their faces. Even Evfra seemed pleased, but Ryder only had eyes from one figure, someone who held himself slightly back, as to restrain himself from leaping forward. 

“Kandros… We did it.” Whatever hold was on him was broken when Ryder moved forward; in just a few steps Kandros covered the ground and picked her up by the waist, swinging her around in the air until she shrieked, arms going around his neck and legs around his waist. Though she still hurt in ways she didn’t know was possible, Ryder clung to him, and when Kandros bent his head down to kiss her she returned it with gusto, throwing up a middle finger to the wolf-whistles and whoops of the assembled. 

“I saw your email,” he said when they finally broke apart. He hadn’t put her down, and for once Ryder didn’t care. 

“I guess I broke my promise.” No dying. The one request he had, and she managed to fuck that up. It still stung even now- or was that just the headache that still threatened to overtake every aspect of her being? 

Gently, Kandros placed her back on the ground, though his arm stayed to support her, for which she was grateful. Without it, Ryder was almost certain her legs would buckle and she’d end up just sitting on the floor, staring up at everyone. “Somehow, I’ll find it in myself to forgive you,” Kandros said, voice wry. 

“They’re naming Habitat 7 after you. Ryder-1. I was going to wait to tell you, but may as well throw everything at once.” Just when she thought she couldn’t get more overwhelmed. A fucking planet named after her. 

“My ego is going to be unstoppable,” she managed to choke out, and then she slid down and sat, no longer caring, legs crossed and whole body sagging. Kandros followed suit, the considerable length of turian legs making the process infinitely more complicated. He was something to lean against, an arm across her shoulders that brought her close. They did it, and her mind circled back to that again and again. 

Gradually, her body slumped more against his until her head was on his shoulder, a comfortable silence falling over them even as everyone was still talking excitedly, tallying injuries or speculating about what this new planet could mean. It was all just beginning, but this was a real start after so many false ones. 

“Kandros,” Ryder finally asked, just to break the silence, “Can we go home now? Yours, the Tempest. I don’t care.” Either one would be good, as long as there was a bed and a shower. 

Kandros gently dislodged himself, offering her a hand to stand which she took gratefully. Even after she was back on her own two legs, he didn’t let go, and she took comfort from that firm pressure, a single finger tracing a circle against the meat of her palm. “Home it is. Let’s go, Ryder.”


End file.
